Red As Sin
by TheOtherPen
Summary: Rick and Lori are at the end of their rope. Will Lori's way of thinking finally patch the rift between them, or be her undoing? Richonne AU
1. What's Right

**A/N** : Hello everyone! This is my first story on this site. I'm excited to jump back into this world. Any criticism is welcome, just be respectful. Although I've said this is complete.. There's a chance for another chapter..maybe more. The characters are still talking to me haha. **I do not own the Walking Dead, or any of it's characters! But this is a fiction created by me.**

Without further ado, Red As Sin..

Rick stared blankly at the woman in front of him. Her petite frame was the same one he'd always known. Hips a little wider from Carl. Ten years and that was as much as she'd grown. Thank God for yoga, she always said. Her long brown hair dangled past her shoulders, like leaves on a willow, caressing her skin. Many times before he'd felt the silk tresses on his own skin. Not one silver or gray existed. No. Her voice, that'd grown less confident over the past year, it was different, but that same yearning was still there. Always yearning. It was in those honey eyes of hers. Those were what had changed. Over the years they'd changed quite a bit. Love. Anger. Defeat. And now. Now he was sure she'd lost her damn mind.

"I mean, just think about it, Rick."

"Lori-"

She moved from the door frame between their family room and dining room, quickly side stepping an end table by the lackluster green couch that sat smack dab in the middle of the room. She hesitantly grabbed his hand. She closed her eyes momentarily, basking in the closeness she'd missed so much. She knew she'd caused the drift. The phrase "one time" was a broken record for her. For him. Her husband of twelve years. Before the tears could make their well known appearance, her eyes fluttered open. She saw the discomfort in those blue orbs. They used to remind her of the water at their favorite beach near the border of King County. But only on the sunniest of days-when the water was perfectly warm and you didn't have to trudge in.

But these days, they reminded her of the arctic. Cold. Frozen in… Pain. Hatred even. Her hand slipped from his, and she crossed her arms to hug herself. She'd been doing that a lot lately. Especially when Carl wasn't around.

"A swingers club, Lori? I mean it's one shade shy of a brothel. I was a deputy for, Chrissakes," Rick swiped the back of his hand over his forehead, wiping away the non existent sweat.

"I mean does that even make any sense to ya? What would people say?"

"It wouldn't be here! I'm not insane, Rick, God. I found one in Atlanta. No one would know. Just… just think about it, baby."

Just then she'd realized she'd been close enough to smell her husband. It was silly really. She used to relish in his scent, as if she'd forget it if she hadn't nuzzled her nose in his neck every morning before they got out of the bed. It'd been so long. She kept her eyes on him, though she'd drifted through time. He didn't smell of sanded wood and something she never could quite lay her finger on. But she vowed she'd spend the rest of her life figuring it out. Now he smelled of lilies and horses.

Most days he'd spent giving riding lessons at the Greene family farm, and in their new garden round back-courtesy of Hershel himself. While she enjoyed this domestic side of Rick, hell any side he'd decided to grace her with these days, something was missing. They'd never get back to where they were if she didn't do something-something that wasn't fucking up.

Slowly she backed away from him, longing in her eyes. He saw it. He always saw it. But what he was supposed to do? Comfort her? Hold her like he used to? How could he? She wasn't that Lori, he'd fallen in love with. No matter how hard he tried to push the thought of the one night mistake she'd had with his best friend. A sigh escaped his lips as he heard her walk up the stairs of their house. He couldn't even bring himself to call it a home anymore. He thought about Carl, who'd been staying with their neighbor Jessie, and her two son's, Ron and Sam for the older boy's eleventh birthday sleepover. Captain America themed, of course. Carl was Rick's home.

He walked into the dark kitchen. Dinner was put away half an hour ago, and he was thirsty for a cold brew. Rick opened the fridge, and muscle memory led him to the Bud Light on the right of the box. Just as quickly as he'd closed it, he'd wasted no time popping the cap off with his teeth, and tossing it in the open trash can next to the door.. He headed to the back porch, leaving the main door open, and secured the screen door.

"Swingers," he mumbled and shook his head before take a swig of his cool beverage.

How could she be crazy enough to think that was how they fixed… _this_? Sure, months of counseling didn't work. He couldn't handle her pity. And he damn sure couldn't handle her blaming him for fucking his best friend. _I felt alone. Like work was more important, than his family. Than me._ And then the tears would start. What a load. He felt lonely too, but didn't run into Carol's vagina the first chance he got. He was trying to provide for his family. Working his way up to Sheriff. Not for him. For Carl. For her. For their family. They were his everything. And he thought she felt the same.

Did he not listen enough? Did he not show her he cared enough? He knew hours could be long at the station. He'd missed parent meetings, dinners-those were the worst for Lori, but he knew when he was there, those were the best times of his life. Her hazel eyes would light up like a field full of fireflies, and it was like he'd fall in love all over again. That had to mean something.

Rick took another long swig of his drink.

 _Swingers._ Was that really what she wanted? She'd told him maybe it would make them even. Maybe after they could move on. When he realized that sex with someone else was nothing compared to what they had. It couldn't be.

To him it sounded desperate. A big stretch from the right thing. He closed his eyes, bringing his pointer and thumb to the bridge of his nose for a good pinch.

He took the last gulp of his beer with angst in his chest. He didn't know why, but he still wanted to please his wife. He didn't understand her reasoning. At this point he couldn't say he trusted it. But he'd do it. He'd go with her to Atlanta, if she really wanted.

He exhaled with a large sigh before hopping up from his spot, empty bottle in hand, and headed back in the house to let Lori know. But there would be rules. There had to be rules.

* * *

Two weeks had passed. They sat in an underground parking lot. Filled with about thirty cars. Most were a bit on the lavish side. 2016 Chevies, and Hyndais. They decided to rent a simple Toyota after the two hour drive. Blend in a little better. Rick's stomach churned. Not from being uncomfortable, let him tell it, was exactly how he felt. Rick had butterflies in his belly. He'd prided himself on his sixth sense while he was still a cop. He always knew when something big was about to happen. Sadly, that gift hadn't did much for his marriage until tonight. Something big was gonna happen tonight. Something he couldn't for the life of him imagine. He had no plans of going through with any of it. He just wanted to show Lori he would try. That was what they were still doing right? Sure, he'd laid down the rules. If he felt uncomfortable with anything, they'd leave. If she'd felt uncomfortable at any point, they'd leave. That simple.

Soon they were inside, each stepping with different feelings of nervousness. Lori doubting her decision, before pushing it back, only for it to be replaced with unwavering guilt. And Rick, well, he had to see if his gift had been right.

The large space was rather bohemian. There was a blood red light casted over the place. Rick thought he was in one of those hot and steamy new age chick flicks. That porno he'd watched late one night when he was flipping through channels. One he'd never admit to watching. Fifty Shades of Naked, or whatever.

With long curtains draped throughout. Starting from the ceiling, and ending on the hardwood floors, the nearly transparent fabrics separated booths where some couples, even groups of three sat laughing and chatting. The further they stepped in, he clearly saw the patrons making out and groping one another. Quickly he averted his eyes. He looked down at Lori who giggled to herself at is reaction. Good ole, Rick. He was a gentleman in every sense of the word. She knew he'd be awkward in this sort of place. But he was trying. And that was all she needed to know.

Lori pulled her husband toward the bar, hoping a drink would loosen him up a bit. A young woman, with short dark hair came up behind the counter. The burgundy lipstick contrasted against her pale skin nicely.

"I'm Tara, what are you lovely folks havin' tonight?"

Her lips curved upward, and her thick and perfectly tamed eyebrow rose with it.

"Long Island iced tea for me, and a scotch on the rocks for him." Lori ordered.

Rick glanced at her, almost surprised she'd remembered how he liked his liquor. They hadn't been out in so long. And they stopped stocking the good stuff a long time ago. He dug in his pocket and pulled out his wallet, but was stopped before the bartender turned to make their drinks.

"Oh, don't worry about that. These are on the house. But feel free to tip me pretty," she giggled half jokingly.

Rick gave her a half smile. As she coolly went to work, he wondered what a kid like her was doing in a place like this. She couldn't have more than twenty two. By no means would he call himself hip, if he were being honest with himself. Around Carl he was the coolest dad in the world. But he knew how kids were today. Weird shit. With their tweeters and "the grams". And the drugs. He'd busted up enough teen and college parties to know what was going down.

"What was that about?" Lori asked with wide eyes.

She thought about the hundred dollar payment she'd made to reserve their space tonight, but nowhere did it say free drinks. She wasn't complaining. Just curious. She even hoped she'd start a conversation with Rick.

To her dismay, he just shrugged and continued to look around. As she was about to try yet again, Tara came back with their drinks.

"One Long Island iced tea, and one scotch on the rocks," she declared, giving the beverages to their respective owners.

Rick slipped her the twenty he'd taken from his wallet earlier.

"Woah, thanks, dude. Pound it," Tara smile widely while holding her fist to him.

His half smile grew, and he couldn't help the chuckle that left his lip. He eyed Lori, who's smiled mirrored his, and gave the young bartender the pound she'd asked for.

"You two have fun," Tara urged before walking to a couple at the left end of the bar.

"She's interesting," Lori laughed then sipped her drink through the long black straw.

"That she is," Rick mumbled, not giving it too much thought.

He turned back to examine this place. Though a big chunk of the room was covered in flowy cloth, and black semi sectionals, there was a large section near the back. He couldn't hear through the loud music he wasn't familiar with, playing over the speakers above him, but he'd sworn he saw bare skin peeking from another set of transparent drapes. Before he thought of further investigating, a sultry voice that reminded him of Sunday dinners when he was a kid interrupted. Succulent roast, buttery potatoes, and carrots. His mama's baked macaroni, finished off with his grandmama's secret recipe peach cobbler. Just thinking on it made his mouth water. And nothing had much changed, when he turned slightly to his right to eye the woman, the voice had strummed from.

"I hope you're enjoying your drinks," she said with a grin that made Rick's knees weak. He leaned back on the bar smoothly.

Her skin was the creamiest dark chocolate he'd never tasted. But every passing moment, he craved to bless he his tastebuds more. The golden thin strapped dress hugged her small frame magnificently. He was sure she wasn't wearing a bra, but her breasts sat perfectly in it. The way that dress clung to her shapely hips, he knew she'd had to have a more than healthy amount of ass. _Jesus_. What was he doing thinking that way about a complete stranger? She wasn't Lori. Not in the least. So why-

"Yes we are thanks." Lori paused. "Please don't tell me you did this! These drinks had to cost at least thirty bucks," she went on with wide eyes.

The sunkissed goddess laughed gently, taking Rick's breath from his chest. He'd never heard a sound so beautiful next to Carl's sweet cry as he entered this world. But it made him stir in a completely different way.

"It's not a problem. I know the owners," she purred.

Lori noticed that Rick was especially quiet. While she was accustomed to his silence, she thought it rather rude, and that just wasn't him. She gently nudged his side. Rick tore his eyes from this the woman's legs. They never fucking ended.

"I'm sorry," he said almost inaudibly. "Thanks so much for your kindness. I'm Rick, this is Lori," he spouted nervously.

"Michonne," she stated gingerly while holding her hand out for the handsome man.

Rick sat his drink on the countertop, and wiped his hand on the side of his black slacks before extending it to Michonne. Michonne. He'd never heard such a name. It was different. Foreign maybe. But it fit her well. Much like that dress dipped in an Egyptian sun.

When their hands touched, he felt a surge of unfamiliarity through his body. It lit him on fire, and he slowly released her hand as easily as he'd taken it. Michonne reached to the side of him to grab Lori's hand next, leaning a bit closer to him. Her curled locs brushed over his striped blue button up tucked into his pants. His eyes slightly closed as he got of wiff of her. Jasmine and… cocoa butter? He'd only known the scent because Lori used it her entire pregnancy to rid herself of stretch marks.

His eyes opened hastily when a man approached, tall in stature. His hair was neatly combed back, much like his own, and his facial hair was neat as well, covering half of his face.

"Oh me, oh my, Mich. Aren't we greedy tonight?" he said playfully as he stroked the side of her flawless face.

Michonne bit her lip playfully as she eyed him but never took her eyes off of Rick and Lori.

"Hello there, I'm Negan. I hope Michonne here behaved herself, with such a beautiful couple."

His smile was stuck on his face, and Lori awed at the smooth man with deep dimples. She felt a shame wash over her body, but she couldn't help the way she felt as he eyed her. It almost made her uncomfortable. Almost.

"I always behave myself."

She smiled again and showing her insanely white smile. Rick suddenly wondered how many times a day she brushed her teeth.

"This is Rick, and Lori," Michonne informed with a point of her manicured hand.

"How are you guys enjoying your first time here?" Negan continued, absently draping his arm around Michonne's shoulder.

Rick's jaw tensed, but he wasn't exactly sure why. He calmed himself, mentally counting to ten, but his alert was up. Once a cop and all that.

"How did you know it was our first time?" Rick questioned the man, ever so often glancing at the goddess beside him.

"When you own a place like this, you tend to remember faces," he chuckled happily.

"You're the owner?" Lori chimed, quietly slurping the remains of her drink.

"Co owner. My partner in crime here, well I can't seem to get rid of her."

Michonne shook her head, and swayed her hips into his jokingly.

"Wow. So you two are together?" Lori asked setting her drink on the counter next to Rick's, and somehow taking the question from his own head.

"Sometimes," Michonne smiled back.

 _Sometimes_ , Rick thought to himself. Was it really that simple?

The married couple watched as the strangers whispered to one another, their smiles never leaving either of their faces.

Lori and Rick eyed one another. Just what was happening?

"Since this is your first time, we try to make this new experience as comfortable as possible. It doesn't hurt, that the both of you are down right edible," Michonne started with a light lick of her plump bottom lip.

Suddenly, Rick wanted it in his mouth. He mentally slapped himself, as Lori came closer to his side. She'd never been hit on by a woman. Never really gave that lifestyle too much thought in all honesty. But the way it rolled off Michonne's tongue, did something to her. She wanted to know Rick was still okay with it.

"We'd like to show you two around, so you can get a _feel_ for the place."

Lori pulled on Rick's shirt gently, looking up into those blue eyes of his as he acknowledged her. She saw something she didn't quite recognize, and wasn't sure just how she felt about that. He gave her a nod, answering her silent question.

"Lori, if you don't mind coming with me, we'll get this party started," Negan spoke lightheartedly.

She still hadn't let go of Rick. She wasn't completely sure she wanted him to be okay with this. But when he pulled away from her as Michonne held her hand out for him, a piece of her broke inside. Before they went their separate ways, Rick turned to her and mouthed 'just say the word', and he nodded her way. She half smiled. Her heart thumped loudly. He still wanted to try.

* * *

"So what made you choose all this?" Michonne had finally unlaced her fingers from his. He had to admit, his felt bare now.

He swiped his hand over his forehead, chuckling. Why this woman made him so nervous, he couldn't understand. He took a quick look around. The night had surely progressed. The patrons had gotten more comfortable. More open. He'd even heard a few moans as he and Mich walked through the aisles.

"It wasn't my idea," he stated simply, finally looking back into her chocolate eyes. They were so beautiful. Big. Enchanting even. He swore she could see through his very soul with them.

"I would have never guessed," she said with a fake gasp.

"What, you don't think I'd be into this sort'o thang?"

His southern drawl was intoxicating. Her gaze fell on his red lips, and she couldn't wait to feel them on hers, among other places. She looked at his face as a whole. She liked a little more facial hair, but his salt and pepper stubble would work just fine. Like she'd been doing it for years, she reached out, and stroked his left cheek. There was a smoothness to it. It surprised her, but didn't falter her exploration. Rick closed his eyes at her touch. He didn't understand why his body reacted to her in such an intimate way. He hated and loved it all the same. He tried to do one more than the other.

"Not in the least bit. And that's exactly why I chose you." her voice was almost a whisper.

Rick's eyes fluttered open.

"Chose me?"

Instead of answering him, she parted the string of curtains hanging near the back of the giant space. The very one Rick had been eyeing earlier in the night. She reached out for his hand, somehow asking him to trust her. Without thinking, he reached for her hand yet again. She gave his a tight squeeze as she lead him into what she liked to call 'a little slice of heaven'.

Rick's gaze immediately darted about this back room hidden from the outside, and for good reason. If he had to guess, this is what Woodstock had been like. Bodies sprinkled out all over. Discarded clothes. Limbs tangled together. Heavy breaths. Panting. Moans. Lust filled slurs. Sweat filled his nostrils as he watched the bodies move rapidly or slowly. His head soon lowered. Michonne watched as Rick's face turned red with embarrassment. The smile that played at her lips was one she couldn't hide. Bad as he wanted to look away, he couldn't for long. As they passed the couples, sometimes threesomes, he noticed no group was ever in the same position. He recognized a few, but mostly he had no idea some of it was possible.

She knew there was a part of him he kept reserved. And she supposed she understood it. It was safer. But the fact that he was there, letting her take him on this journey, she also knew that hidden part of him wanted to come out. She'd be more than happy to aid him in that task.

Michonne guided him past the red futon mattresses lining the floor, and to a more private section. One for the shy newcomers. It was made up of five canopy beds with blood red drapes protecting them. She led him into the one directly in the middle and stopped, allowing him to go in first. Rick scanned the rather large space. His eyes landed on the small night stand that housed an array of contraceptives. A few he'd been well aware existed, but some he'd never laid eyes on. He found himself walking over to the dark wood next to the bed, and snatching up a pack of flavored condoms.

"Peach flavored?" he whispered to himself with a nervous chuckle. He had no idea people were into this kind of stuff.

"Those are actually pretty tasty," Michonne teased.

She had mostly closed the drapes surrounding them. She knew it could get quite steamy in these rooms. She didn't want the poor man passing out. Not before she got what she wanted.

"I uh.. I wouldn't know anythang about that, let you tell it."

Rick was taken back by the sudden eagerness to flirt with his host. Michonne bit her bottom lip again. She was turned on by that accent of his. A southern boy he was. She wanted nothing more than to make him come loose at his seams. And that was what she would do.

"We can try one out. Or three."

Rick turned around, and Michonne had slipped out of that golden dressed he had come to love, and her red heels. Not a damn thing standing between the two of them, but he himself.

"Michonne," he breathed shakily.

She came closer to him, not taking her gaze from his for a second. Her intense stare made it impossible for him to look away, not that he wanted to if he was being honest. But he was a married man. He was-

"Rick, you came with me for a reason. I saw the silent conversation you and Lori had before we parted. You told her it was okay. I also saw the million and one ways you thought about taking me, as I walked up to you," she teased again, attempting to ease his mind.

He finally looked away, shaking his head at her playfulness. Really he needed a break from those eyes of hers. That rich brown in them made him someone he wasn't too familiar with. He couldn't think. But not because he was distracted, but because it felt right, so there was no need to think. She was so calming. Her voice nurtured him. Not in a condescending way. But she spoke to him like she knew him. Like she cared for him.

He felt her hand on his face again, gently turning his head toward her.

"If you don't want to, leave now, and I'll know I was wrong. But I don't think I was wrong, Rick. I think you need this. Just as much as I want you, inside of me."

This time her voice was husky, ridden with lust and just enough confidence. She knew the moment she laid eyes on him, she'd have him. And no amount of reasoning he could come up with in his mind, would make him leave her.

She searched his nervous blue eyes, the ones that reminded her of a rainy day. One where the sun was poking through clouds waiting for its moment. Rick was saddened by something. Something that hurt him deep. But she could make him happy. She could help get from behind those clouds. If only for tonight.

Before he could fake protest, Michonne's hand moved to the nape of his neck, and pulled him into her. Their lips gently brushed, electrifying their skin. Rick could feel her hardened nipples nudging his chest, as she slightly elevated herself to deepen their kiss.

He grunted when her tongue slipped from her mouth and toyed with his bottom lip. Slowly, he parted his lips, allowing her to explore it. And explore she did. She nibbled on his bottom lip, grabbing the box of condoms they had just discussed. Without breaking their lip wrestle, she led him to the bed. She rid of him of his button up, and white undershirt. She broke their kiss to push him down on the queen size bed.

His shoes and pants were next to go. Michonne took a condom out, and placed the to the side of them before straddling a boxer clad Rick. She smirked. She'd imagined him as a briefs kind of man. Guess she couldn't always be right.

"Last chance, Rick," she said caressing his face once more.

There was a flash of reservation, the same time she'd felt him grow beneath her. She moaned out lowly. There was something about this man that gave her a feeling not even her greatest lover, Neegan could elicit. She wanted-needed, to explore this. She hoped he could see it in her eyes. Because it reflected what had been in his the moment they saw one another.

"I need to know," he whispered hoarsely.

He could be honest with her. He couldn't help it. He saw the need for him in her eyes. And that made all the difference. It wasn't what he had with Lori. A yearning for something tangible. Wasn't something you could touch. Somehow it was much deeper. It was the desire to connect two souls.

Michonne nodded, and leant down to kiss him again, this time with more purpose, more passion. Rick's hands roamed her body. Her skin was as smooth as he imagined it. Her scent had somehow heightened. His right hand tangled in her luscious locks that smelled of sweet oils.

Her kisses trailed down his strong jawline, behind his ear, down his neck, and further. Every now and then she sucked gently, maybe even nibbled. He stirred at her ministrations. She smiled, loving the way he writhed beneath her. He grabbed two handfuls of her ass, and squeezed. He could only take so much more of her games.

"Relax. Let me do my thang," she teased trying to mimic his drawl.

He wanted to think about how the woman could read his mind in such a short time, but her kisses were driving him nuts.

She kissed his smiling lips once more before moving lower on the bed she quickly freed him from those boxers, and his hard member sprang to attention. He was a sight. Smooth, not too veiny, thick. The moment he slid his pleasing length inside her would be one to remember, but first, she would taste him.

She shed the foil that protected the peach flavored condom. She placed the condom between her lips. Rick's eyes lit up in curiosity. Clearly the woman had experience, but she continued to surprise him. His eyes closed as he felt the condom slide over his dick, followed by her mouth and tongue.

"God," he grunted.

He was sure God was doing nothing but figuring out a way he would punish the two of them. This couldn't be right. To feel this good.

Her mouth was warm and wet, and wrapped around him with ease and precision. His eyes opened so he could watch her work him over the edge. Once the protector covered him completely, she began. She licked up and down his shaft methodically. Every time she ran it up to the tip, she flicked it once, then twice. Her brown eyes darkened tremendously, hooded not only with lust but admiration. He was her only focus, and it made him fidget beneath her. It didn't help that she never took her eyes from him. Intent on watching every moment of his pleasure.

Her mouth covered his pulsing cock, and he shuddered as she deep throated him. Again, and again, and again. Soon she hummed a tune only she could hear. Rick's toes curled, and he could feel himself coming undone.

"Michonne."

His voice was laced with pleasure.

Before she could think to tell him it was all right for him to release, she was on her back. She couldn't say she wasn't surprised by his aggression. He kissed her roughly, and then pulled back to look into her eyes. He'd become something else in that moment. He was no longer timid, and doubtful. He was confident, cocky even.

He laid between her thighs, propped at her entrance. His fingers found their way to her center, relishing in the river that he'd created. His head lowered to her ear, and sucked just below the diamond stud that she donned.

"You're so wet. All this for me?"

She felt the smirk below her ear as he sucked the spot.

"Mmmm," she hissed lowly.

The way his fingers danced between her lower lips was driving her insane. His fingers sped their tango as her back arched. She began to shudder at that familiar feeling washing over her entire body.

"I can't hear you, Chonne," he growled in her ear.

Was it possible for her to get any wetter?

Suddenly, she could no longer feel Rick's fingers.

"Oh my goodness, yes!" she squealed as Rick plunged into the depths of her. They both were still, adjusting to the feel of one another. Every ridge, every curve, every inch. At nearly the same moment, their eyelids fluttered open. They stared. Silently telling one another what the other needed to hear. This was right.

* * *

Lori had toured with Negan. As charming as he was, as good as his hands felt fondling her breasts, her body, it didn't compare to Rick. She'd seen him and Michonne disappear behind the red drapes about a half an hour ago. She followed their trail, ready to tell Rick just how she felt. She maneuvered through the maze of bodies, scanning the area for anything that resembled her husband. Nothing. She kept walking, as she was led to a few beds she'd dreamt she'd have as a little girl. Maybe her and Rick could do some furniture shopping soon.

Her gaze traveled from one to the next, when finally she stopped in front of the third. Smack dab in the middle. Her heart sank into her stomach as she gaped at the sight between the slightly parted curtains. It may have just been the back of a man to anyone else, but she knew those loose curls that hung just above the base of that man's neck anywhere. His hair was even sleeker than before. Sweat no doubt. Lori watched in horror as her husband pounded into the dark beauty, her legs dangled over his shoulders. She dropped to the floor, as the tears crawled from her eyes. As bad as it hurt, the bullet through her heart, she couldn't tear her gaze away. The punishment she had prayed for to ease her guilt had finally been delivered. This was right.


	2. The Next Step

**A/N Hey lovelies! Sorry it took so long for this update. I've just been having a little trouble pushing this where I want it. I just wanted to skip to the greatness that is Richonne. But... for the sake of the storyline, I had to do this chapter first. Forgive me, there is not any Richonne in this piece of the puzzle, but there will be soon! Without any further babble... I give you chapter two of Red As Sin...**

Lori watched as her husband paced the floor of their bedroom. She thanked the heavens above that Carl had been asleep. Thankful that he, unlike his parents, was a heavy sleeper.

"Rick, sit," she patted the space on the navy blue comforter gently.

Her voice was steady. Very low. There wasn't a need for more tears. No need for more pleading. It had been a month since their night at that… _place_. The place where her heart had shattered into tiny pieces yet again. That same night she watched Rick make love to a complete stranger with more gusto than he had ever given her. As long as she watched him pump into her, effortlessly, with aggression, then care-even a playfulness, she couldn't watch a second more as pulled out of her and flipped Michonne on her stomach.

That was something he and Lori had never explored. She had to admit to herself, she was partly to blame. She had never been an adventurous lover. But still, she thought her and Rick were just fine in that department. Until that night anyway. They hadn't had sex since months before then. He didn't feel right after what she'd done to betray him, and now… now she finally felt right with what he'd done.

But it left her empty. It left her wondering if Rick had felt the very dullness in his heart when she had confessed.

Lori felt the bed slump beside her and she pushed herself up on the bed so that only one leg was dangling from the queen sized bed. She gave a half smirk as her and Rick met gazes. He saw that her gesture of goodwill failed to meet her eyes. As much as he wanted to comfort her, it just wasn't fair to her.

"I won't fight you on this, Rick. We ended long before I came up with any foolish ideas to get you into a damn swinger's club," she chuckled bitterly.

"Lori… I just… What about Carl?" He questioned.

His eyes were dulled with the thought of how his son would take their split. He was still so young. Just ten. Old enough to know you didn't talk back to adults. Old enough to know to open a door for a lady. Old enough to know to take your hat off in the house. But he was still that little boy that wanted to be just like his dad. That little boy that clung to his every word like it was the greatest treasure he'd ever seen. Was Carl ready for a divorce?

Lori's shoulders sunk at the thought of it. She'd gone over this a billion times. There was no way to soften a blow this big. He wouldn't like it. Not one bit. Maybe he'd hate it. But it was something that was going to happen. Something that had to happen. Too much had taken place. Things that couldn't be undone.

"We'll tell him together. As much as it sucks, he's heard things at school. You know he has. About what I did… What Shane did..."

RIck's jaw tensed at the mention of the best friend he'd lost. But, the husband knew his wife's words were true. He'd heard the gossiping while he was at the stables, at the diner he'd take Carl to on Sundays. He was the talk of the town seven months later.

"Yeah. I.. I know. It's just," He exhaled a shaky breath while pinching the bridge of his nose, " You're right. This really does suck."

Lori chuckled and her tears finally broke free.

Rick pulled her into a one armed hug, and she rested her head on his shoulder. He squeezed her arm tightly, letting her know he'd always be there for her. Even if it wasn't romantically. They'd put entirely too much into their relationship for it to end so pettily.

And she knew as much. She knew he'd always love her. Just not the in the way that would make him stay. Not in the way that she wanted. That would have to be okay.

* * *

Michonne slid her fingers into the jet black curls below her. Negan's tongue swirled between her slippery folds with precision. Every flick of that heavenly muscle had a purpose, and she felt in her spirit. As her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her pleasure filled moans rushed from her lips, she thought back to the days before all this. A boyfriend in college, Mike, had been obsessed with Lil Wayne. He was from his hometown, New Orleans. While she understood his connection, she still didn't quite understand it. He'd play his albums all day. One song in particular baffled her entirely. _Pussy Monster_. She felt the smile grown on her face as she opened her eyes to her lover work between her thighs. The Pussy Monster really did exist.

That familiar wave struck like lightening, and her toned thighs clamped his head in place. Negan pressed his mouth against her swollen clit, and he sucked it, like a straw slurping up the last bit of an Oreo shake from Potbelly.

"Fuckkkkk," Michonne hissed as she came undone.

He moved his attention to her hole, dripping with the dessert he'd worked hard for. Michonne could take forever to come sometimes. Not that he minded. He could stay between her legs all day. He had done just that on many occasions.

She was never unsatisfied with head from Negan. It was remedy to anything that ailed her. Horniness. Stress. Anger. Rick.

 _Rick._

Negan began sucking at her lower lips, ready to make her gush again, but Michonne tugged his hair gently. He jerked from his comfortable position on a pillow in their shared office.

"You done, already?" he smirked.

That tease of a grin was still as sexy as ever-that left dimple dented as deep as her love for him. It used to make her shiver. Make her drop her panties at any moment of the day. And her essence decorating his beard and lips, well it made her heart race. It made her body heat. But something had changed. She had changed. She wanted to blame it on him-say he'd lost his touch. But they both knew that wasn't true. She wanted to blame herself at the very least, but she wasn't too sure what she was feeling was bad.

 _Rick._

That night. That one fucking night, and she couldn't stop seeing those rainy day blue eyes of his.

"Mich," Negan whispered as he disappeared between her thighs once more.

She blinked repeatedly, ripping herself from her thoughts.

"I… gotta go to the bathroom. I'll be back," she said quietly.

She pushed the leather lounge chair-one that she'd seen in Sean Maguire's office from _Good Will Hunting_ , she'd been occupying back, and stood in her naked glory. She headed to the adjoining bathroom with Negan's eyes glued to her jiggling ass.

"Hurry up, would ya?" he teased some more.

She smiled over her shoulder. When she stepped in and onto the cool black tiled floor, she closed the door behind her. Her smile dropped just a little. It wasn't him at all. She'd met Negan Woodridge her first year at Tulane University. She was a dance major with a minor in theater, and he was friends with one of her classmates- he was visiting home briefly, while he took a year off to travel. He rode a motorcycle without a helmet on the weekends; and he drove a black Chevy that looked like it belonged in a glass case. He'd always been charming-goofier back then, but it was never overbearing. Confident. Always had his eyes set on what he wanted. And he knew he wanted her, even if she didn't know herself.

There was no sweeping her off her feet. It was just… passion. He made her admit what she tried to hide. He made her see, that want-desire, wasn't something to be ashamed off. He opened her up. And she loved him for it. For a while there, she thought she was in love with him for it. But…

She looked at the phone she'd left on the counter of sink- the place they'd began their afternoon sexcapade. She walked toward the marble countertop, and picked the device up. She didn't recognize the number flashing across her screen. She slowly swiped the icon to the right.

"Hello," she answered lowly.

He heard the voice clear his throat.

"Michonne?"

Her heart skipped. That southern drawl gave her flashbacks.

"Rick?"

 **A/N P.S. I want to thank you guys so much for all the love, the reviews, the follows, and oh my goodness the favorites! It makes me warm and fuzzy, and I appreciate it more than y'all know. Please keep supporting.**

 **P.P.S. I do plan on starting some other stories on the sight...probably while this is still going. If you guys have any requests or ideas you'd like to see from me, shoot me a PM. I may not go with them all, but I'd definitely like to hear from y'all. Thanks again!**


	3. Take Care

**A/N Thanks guys so much for the reviews, follows, favorites, and support. I do love you for it. This one is lengthy, I know the last add was rather short. It was tough to write. A lot of sad going on, but I promise the next chapter to be fluff! And maybe even a little steamy. Who knows? Without further ado, I give you chapter 3..**

"Rick?"

"Yeah...yeah it's me," Rick smiled.

She remembered his voice.

"How'd you get my number?" she blurted out.

She had heard the smile in his voice, and felt the butterflies fluttering around as soon as that familiar twang filled her ears. But she couldn't deny the slight creepiness from his end. They'd never exchanged numbers. Besides their night together, she knew absolutely nothing about the man except he set her body ablaze.

She heard him clear his throat.

"Oh, I… I'm sorry for comin' off kinda sketchy. I'm… I'm a sheriff's deputy."

Michonne could picture the rose in his cheeks, as he explained himself. She hadn't been all that worried about how he got it really. She had a knack for reading people. Not as well as she had come to read Rick like a book, but she always trusted her gut. She glanced up at the bathroom door, remembering Negan was on the other side of it.

" _Deputy Rick_. Kind of has a nice ring to it," Michonne teased as she imagined Rick in his uniform. Being a country boy, she just knew there was a hat involved.

He'd never heard his work title sound so good. Rick imagined her smirking as the words left her full lips, even showing her pearly white teeth. He remembered the feel of said teeth, nibbling on his ear, his neck…

"Rick," he heard her calling to him.

He quickly shook his head out of his thoughts. He'd called for a reason, and not for a recap of that night, though he wouldn't mind rewinding the clock.

"I'm sorry. What'd ya say?"

"Nothing… I just was wondering why you called."

Michonne thought about the long hair beauty that had escorted him to the club. She'd seen plenty of married couples stumble into her place, but none had been as sad-eyed as Rick and Lori. It was none of her business, and she knew that. She just couldn't understand what Rick was doing calling her, while he had an entire wife at home.

"Well… I thought that maybe…" he inhaled deeply, "I don't understand why I get so nervous, when I talk to ya. I'm not sure I could say this if we weren't on the phone."

He was positively adorable. A wave of ease passed over Michonne. She didn't quite understand that either. Nervous people always made her nervous too. It was just that contagious. But not him. Anything he did made her feel content.

"It's okay, Rick. Take your time."

She looked back at the door. Although she really did mean what she said, she knew Negan wasn't the most patient man when it came to his sexual desires.

"Right."

Rick closed his eyes and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Somehow her words were calming. He looked around his closed office. He knew no one would disturb him. These days, everyone treated him like a glass figurine. Cheryl, his assistant, was the only one who actually stepped in, and she'd always announce her entry over the office intercom. He sighed quietly, telling himself to get this over with before he lost his nerve.

"I was wondering if maybe, you'd want to meet to ya know… talk a bit."

Although it had come out almost as one word, Michonne smiled as she heard his words. She couldn't deny she'd been thinking of Rick. More than just how he felt inside of her. While it was great, more than that actually, there was something else. Something she couldn't put her finger on. But soon, her smile faded. Lori was his wife. Sex was one thing. She knew that. But she couldn't invest in someone who wasn't already emotionally available.

Rick felt his stomach drop at the silence on her end.

"You, uh… you still there, Michonne."

"Michonne, what're you doin in there girl?"

"Be right out!" She yelled, looking back toward the door.

Rick fidgeted in his chair at the muffled voice he'd just heard. There was no doubt about it. It was a man. The same one she'd been with at the club. The guy she was with _sometimes_.

"Look, Rick. I'd love to meet with you… but… you're married. And I'm...well I'm complicated. We just have too much going on to make this more.."

She couldn't lie to him, and say 'more than what it was'. She knew it was more than just sex with them. She felt it in his kiss, in his simple touch of their hands. And if she felt it, so did he.

"Michonne… I get where you're comin' from. Believe me I do. But I know there's something here. Something that feels right. Look, me and Lori. We've been over for a long time. Neither of us had the nerve to end it before it went to shit… Scuse my French."

Michonne giggled at his attempt at protecting her ears. He was the definition of a gentleman.

Rick's heart skipped at the heavenly sound of that laugh, as small as it was.

"We've decided to split for good. We just have to finalize it, and tell Carl."

Rick's hand lifted from his lap, and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn't meant to mention Carl so soon. Why'd he go and do that? Scare her off even more. When he talked to this woman, it was like.. He was someone different entirely.

"I know it's a lot, Michonne. I do. But I'm just askin' you to give it a chance. I have a feelin' bout it. I know you do too otherwise you woulda written me off as some whacko usin' his deputy privileges to be a bonified creep. If I'm wrong, you can hang up right now."

Rick waited for the dial tone after he took a page from her book, but when he heard her soft breathing he continued.

"It doesn't have to be now if you don't want it to. We can just talk, or text, whatever it is you're feelin comfortable with."

A sigh escaped Michonne's lips. She wasn't one for messy situations, because she didn't like the uncertainty of them. She didn't live the most traditional lifestyle, but there were rules, prior to what people believed. While her relationship with Negan was open, they were always honest with one another. They were upfront. That's how they had lasted so long. That's why they were best friends. But this thing..with Rick… it was dangerous. It was something completely unknown.

"I gotta go, Rick," she almost whispered.

She could hear the disappointment in his exhale.

"All right. I understand."

"Hey, Rick."

"Michonne?"

"Take care of everything, then call me."

A half smile appeared on his face, and he nodded as if she were standing in front of him.

Somehow, the smile was contagious, and graced her face too.

"Bye, Rick."

* * *

After heading back into their office, Michonne told Negan she wasn't in the mood anymore, and that she'd see him at the event tomorrow. Before he could begin his questioning, she'd put her strapless sundress back on, thankful she'd left her bra and panties at home in her top drawer, and left the building.

She'd just made it to her 2014 Altima, when her phone buzzed in her hand. It was the same number Rick had called her on ten minutes earlier.

 _We take care of everything, then we try this._

Michonne read, and reread the message. Rick wasn't the only person who had work to to do.

* * *

"Hey, Carl, c'mon out here for a minute," Rick called from the back porch.

He'd convinced Lori, to let him handle dropping the bomb on their son. The boy had grown distant from his mother since the scandal between her and who once looked up to as a blood. Some would have even called the ten year old cold. But Rick understood. He felt it, and then some. But Carl loved his mother. They both did. And even though he was angry, and confused on how to deal with her, for the sake of being loyal to his father, she'd always be his mother. She'd always love him unconditionally no matter how he treated her. Rick couldn't have her being the bad guy again. He needed to let his son know he'd have to let go of this anger. He'd have to move forward, just like they were.

"What's up, Dad?" Carl asked as he poked his head between the screen door.

Rick patted the empty space on the swing he sat on. He'd put it up the year Lori and him moved in. Rick's father left it to him in his will. Lori had always said she wanted a swing to watch the stars in. Ten years later, it still hung sturdy.

Carl plopped next to his father, and looked at him with eyes that matched his senior.

"I just wanted… to talk to ya."

"About what?"

Rick wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. This was a lot tougher than he expected. He didn't want to hurt his son, especially when the situation had nothing to with him in the first place. No, his parents had screwed up and put him in the middle. Rick shook his guilty thoughts from his minds.

"Well, about me and mom. I know you're hearin' all types of thangs from your classmates, around town, and I just wanna say I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry for all of it," Rick kept his head down, and stared at the worn brown boots he'd owned for too many years.

"C'mon dad. None of it's your fault. It's mom's. It's Shane's. But you ddin't do anything wrong. _They're_ the assholes in all of this."

Rick whipped his head toward his son. His eyebrows raised in surprise, then bunched in anger.

"Now Carl, i get you're angry. I really do. But you watch your mouth."

"Sorry," he muttered and looked away at the tree in the far left corner of the yard.

"Now look. Your Mom, and Shane made a mistake-a big mistake that cost a lot. But everyone makes em'. We're all human here. And it hurts. I ain't sayin' it don't hurt. Hurts like hell. But they ain't below forgiveness. I forgive them," Rick began.

He hadn't really believed it until the words left his mouth. But he was being honest. He'd forgiven Lori. Shane too, although his ex best friend would never hear him say it. Not just because he'd transferred to Alexandria PD, but because Rick didn't feel like it'd make a difference. Even though he'd managed to forgive Shane, he'd never see him the same way again. He'd never be able to trust him.

"Are you guys gonna get a divorce?"

Rick finally met his son's gaze, his blue orbs covered in confusion. When Carl shrugged his shoulders, he'd forgotten just how smart the kid was.

"I mean, that's what happens right? When you can't work things out? That's what happened with Ron's parents."

Rick shook his head. While he was right, Pete Anderson was a dickwad who couldn't keep his hands to himself. Lori and Rick had gone through some shit, but their shit didn't compare to the Anderson's. Rick chose not to get into that with his son.

"Right, that's what happens."

Rick studied his son. Watched as the boy fidgeted with his fingers. He placed his hands over Carl's.

"Look son, I don't know how this thing is gonna end up. We don't wanna hurt you anymore than we already have."

"I wanna stay here with you, Dad."

As happy as he was with Carl's declaration, he knew it wouldn't be that simple.

"I'm happy to hear that, buddy. But there's no way to guarantee that's gonna happen. Look at me."

He turned so that his left leg was propped up on the bench, and the Grimes' boys were face to face.

"I know you're angry at your mama. And it's okay. But you're gonna get past it. You're gonna move on from this."

Carl's eyes glossed over.

"So… it's okay for me to still love, Mom?"

Rick's heart broke in two. He couldn't believe what this had done to his son. To his baby boy. He pulled Carl into his chest, and instantly felt his tee shirt dampen.

"Of course it is, son. Of course it is. This doesn't mean you stop lovin' either one of us, you hear me. We're always gonna be there for you. We're always gonna be your mom and dad."

Rick felt his own tears slipping from his eyes, and down his cheeks.

"Even if you don't love each other anymore?" Carl asked, his voice muffled in the hardness of his father's chest.

Rick pulled back from their embrace. He wiped at Carl's face, until the tears were no more, and he cupped the boy's round chin.

"Carl, we will always love one another. We will always love each other because we will always love you. Understand?"

Carl shook his head, wiping his nose with the arm of his pajama shirt.

"Being a grown up sucks, huh?" Carl rolled his eyes.

Rick wiped at his own face, and couldn't help the hearty chuckle that left his mouth, and ruffled Carl's dark brown hair.

"Yeah son, sometimes it does."

* * *

"Mich, c'mon nah. We've never lied to each other. Why start tonight?"

Negan had showed up at her apartment half an hour after the closing of the club. Two in the morning, and he wanted to have this discussion now. Not that she could sleep. Not since Rick had called her. That was two weeks ago. She'd read that text from him about a hundred times, but still hadn't mustered up the courage to talk to Negan. They hadn't made love since that day, which was unheard of. Not to mention her frequent absence from the club. He stopped buying that 'late night at her art gallery' bullshit after a week of it. Now they were in her room, her crossed legs, back at the headboard, and him on the edge of the bed.

"Talk to me, Mich."

She didn't have to look up at him to know, those brown eyes of his were glued to her. Studying every move, every fidget, every breath. He was always that way with her. Observing her. There for every change. Every _single_ change. He wanted to be the first one to notice. He wanted to be the only one close enough to her to notice. And he was, for a quite a while.

But seeing every single change _always_ has it's downsides. Seeing every change means knowing when something isn't right. Knowing when change means he won't be there to see it anymore. Not how he wants, anyway. All that was left was to hear from the lips he'd miss.

Her head leaned backward to rest on the black cherry stained wooden headboard. She knew he'd wait for her to start. He always did. Michonne inhaled deeply.

"I don't know, love. Something just… I just... "

"It's that fella, from that night, with the wife who left me with my cock out?" Negan teased.

He sighed, when she gave a weak smile, but finally looked up at him. He quickly kicked his shoes off, and joined her at the head of the queen sized bed. He patted his lap, and she instantly laid her head in it, turning so that she was on her back, and gazing up at him. They found comfort in this position long ago. Something so simple, but it was theirs. He tangled his fingers in her locks, stroking her scalp with the tips. She closed her eyes as he soothed her in a way that only he could. At least she thought so, until she'd met Rick. It was weird. Comparing them in that way, when in fact, it wasn't the same at all. Negan had a way of soothing her body. While Rick, Rick seemed to soothe her soul.

"We had a good run didn't we?" Negan whispered, looking down at her with admiration.

She knew. He was madly in love with her. He knew she knew. He didn't say it often. Not that he needed to. He showed her every moment they were together. But he also knew it wasn't the same for her. He knew she loved him very much. Never doubted it for a second. But something was missing. And as long as they'd been together, he thought he would have figured it out by now.

"Yeah. We did. Never a dull moment with us."

Negan smiled, bent down, and kissed her lips gently. They stayed that way forever it seemed, each savoring the taste they'd never get to experience again. And it was okay. New things-moving on, moving forward, that was what they were good at. And it wouldn't stop just because they weren't together anymore. It never did.

"I love you Neg. Always will," Michonne said as a tear fell from her eye as she caressed the side of his face, memorizing the scratchy feel of his beard.

He smirked that devilish grin she knew she'd miss more than anything, and wiped the tear from her face. He left his hand on her cheek, committing every curve of her face, the smoothness of her rich chocolate skin, to his mind.

"Always, Darlin. Don't you forget it."

 **A/N Let me know your thoughts, good and bad. I hoped you guys enjoyed it! Sad to say, this next chapter will be the last one. I don't know if it'll be this long yet, but it'll be worth it, I promise! Thanks you all! You're so great!**


End file.
